1.2: Video

[amos_moses]

[The phone picture steadies on a face-and-shoulders shot, held slightly below the usual level for self-videos. Amos smiles but the cheer is thin and tired, and his dark eyes keep flicking from the screen to the doorway beyond, watchful and wary. He’s in Hope’s temple, back to a wall, watching the door.]

Hey, ya’ll!

Their magic door got me again I guess. Who all of ya’ll is still here?

[Despite his oriental features, his accent is solidly American, and of the New Orleans rhythm and snap, sharper than your typical Southern accent. His voice is a pleasant baritone, but weary. His shoulder-length hair is tucked under a plain black bandanna: he has multiple piercings in his ears, and a Monroe piercing on his left upper lip. He’s sporting a dark tan and the ends of his black hair are sunbleached orange.]

[He also has a hideous black eye on the left, in healing shades of blue and green with a line of stitches just above his left brow. The bruise trails down his cheek, too. For those who knew him before, he’s visibly lost weight, his cheeks a little hollowed now. There’s tension stringing his shoulders tight, foreign to Amos’s typical laid-back cheer. He’s wearing a tactical vest and desert camo fatigues.]

Don’t nobody come hug my neck jess yet, though. Been fightin’ plague-zombies, see, so I figure better let the gods here check me out so I don’t give none of ya’ll nothin’ nasty.

I mean I don’t think I’ve got anythin’ but I kinda wanna be real damn sure, yanno? Can’t be too careful when it comes to this voodoo shit.

Think you could do a fellow a favor, Hope, please?

[He smiles thinly again and waves (revealing scabbed knuckles and dusty hands) before cutting the feed, forgetting entirely to apologize for swearing, which is telling about his current state of mind.]

012 [Video]

[thechoiceisyours]

[The person in the video might look familiar to some, if slightly more tired and banged up than usual. Still, despite the bruise on his forehead and the dark streaks of ash on his face and clothes his eyes are bright, indicating to anyone even slightly acquainted with him that he's about to say something ridiculous.]

Surprise, bitch, I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

[His voice is a little weak but he delivers the line with all the sassiness it deserves, before suddenly offering a grin.]

Okay, so like maybe two people here got that reference, but I so don't care. I punched a shark, so I can make whatever meme references I want.

[That's how it works, right?}

So um... Who's still here, I guess? Or who's new? How long have I been gone, because it feels like no time and like, a long time all at once. Sort of.

[He blinks a few times, smile fading a bit, mostly because he's totally exhausted.]

I'm um... I'm Chris, by the way. Been here before and whatever so... Got the general idea. The sharks are sort of new, though. Fucking sharks, man.

[Really, what even.]

audio & action cw: mention of suicide

[feelslikeimspilling]

[ Action / Audio]

[ It's been a rough few weeks and Will knows that the oncoming weeks ahead are probably going to be just as bad for him. He has a lot of explaining to do and a few apologies to make, which isn't the easiest thing to deal with. His double caused a significant amount of damage both to others as well as to himself.

He's not in the best mindset as he sits out in the cold, just a few hundred yards from the colosseum. The thought of entering it and letting whatever beasts have been brought through the door maim him or worse. With bruises from head to toe and a few fractures scattered around his bones here and there, falling from the window of his fourth story spire had left him a little worse for wear, as had the final fight with his double.

Beside him were a few bottles of water, a small handful of chocolate bars and what was left of one of his bottles of aspirin, Will had originally intended to offer some help to anyone leaving the arena in poor shape, only his mood had gotten the better of him. He knew it was dangerous for him to be out in public right now, what with several people cursing his name and after his blood, but Will wasn't thinking straight (when was he ever?) Stricken with grief after watching someone special to him, take their own life in order to save his, Will was in a state of both physical and mental pain. Still, he would sit and wait, see if anyone needed his help, or if he could even muster the effort to help when the time came. ]

I have a few supplies... If anyone might need them?

[ Stroking his dog, Winston who acted as a guard around his deflated master. ]

[ Private audio to Tyki ]

[ Will was an intelligent man, it didn't take him long after picking out a few words that he recognized in Portuguese to work out roughly what the rest of the message meant. The part he was truly struggling with, was deciding if it was a prank or not?

After some pondering, deciding he really had nothing to lose, Will picked up his device, switched the settings to private and contacted the number left on the flyer. ]

I might have a need for your offered services.